


Promises

by tatooedlaura



Series: Life [7]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: X-Files OctoberFicFest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 05:31:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8477179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: Unspoken promises ...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to:
> 
> Mama Scully’s Party  
> Morning  
> Underwears  
> Maps  
> Nachos  
> Foul Ball

“What?”

Scully looked up from her perch on the bed, legs over the edge, feet hooked in the bed frame, letting the dizziness pass before attempting to get to the bathroom, “weren’t you there when she told us? Bill’s being shipped out for a few months and she wants to have dinner, especially since I’m still in town.”

“I don’t care about saying goodbye to Bill, though.”

The look he got had him attempting an ass-saving backpedal, which Scully would have none of so she stopped him before he could work up any steam, “look, mom asked, I said I was free. I never said you had to come with me. Go home. Take a nap. I can get myself there and back like a big girl.”

Hallelujah chorus’ scurried through his brain, “you won’t be mad. I mean, she won’t be mad at me?”

“That’s your problem, Mulder, not mine.” Finally sliding off the bed, she worked her way to the bathroom, shutting the door, leaving Mulder wondering what the hell just happened.

He remained leaning against the wall, wondering if this was some sort of trick. The happy music died in his head swiftly as he came to realize that maybe he should just suck it up, it was a night with Scully, good food, mostly entertaining family vs. Bill. It really shouldn’t be that hard, should it?

But he’d already said he wasn’t going to go and that he didn’t want to go. At this point, she’d probably be more annoyed with him if he kept bringing it up.

This discussion in his head happened periodically throughout the quiet breakfast/lunch they shared, during the semi-silent interval after food where he couldn’t decide if he should head home or hang out, given it was a little after 2 and she wouldn’t have to leave the house until almost 4, during the oddly cold shoulder and distance that rolled off her while she winced and took her drugs and cleaned up the house a little and politely arranged his shoes by the door, hung his coat on the doorknob, asked if he would have to go to the police station today for anything after he left or if it would wait until Monday.

That sealed the deal and he gave her a look as she returned to the kitchen, then slipped his feet in his boots, “I’m gonna go. Should probably get home and feed the fish. It’s been almost a day and they’re probably hungry.”

“Okay.”

That was her reaction and it kind of annoyed him so he pulled his coat on swiftly and over his shoulder told her, “say hi to your mom and don’t forget you need to take your pain medication at 6. It’s better to keep it regular.”

Calling from the kitchen, “I’ll remember. Have a good day.”

&&&&&&&&&&

What the hell? Have a good day? He wanted to go back in and scream that he hated Bill and Bill hated him and he didn’t want to fake a sad goodbye when he would rather have been singing unending praises from the rafters while throwing confetti and eating pie. He didn’t need Sunday dinners. He didn’t need that sort of commitment, that sort of expectation, that sort of thing.

Making it home, he stopped in the doorway, his perspective on life completely changing the moment he saw his empty apartment, his trash overflowing with takeout containers, his sagging couch. What the hell was he doing? He had missed a dinner earlier in the year at Maggie’s and gotten his ass chewed out, in a spectacular, motherly fashion, but still chewed out. He’d made her a promise after hat to always be there for family dinner unless it was completely impossible.

He’d promised Maggie Scully he would do his best not to disappoint her.  
Fuck if he didn’t immediately have a plan.

Jumping in the shower, he cleaned up quickly, threw on some clothes and headed out the door, only to return a moment later to feed his forgotten and starving fish before finally, actually, leaving.

He was on a mission now, needing to stop Scully in her tracks, show her he wasn’t the terrible individual he’d left her house feeling like. He took a surreptitious cruise past her apartment to see if her car was still where she’d left it days ago.

It was.

He was gonna beat her there by a mile.

Pulling up to Maggie’s, he parked several houses down, then ambled his way to the front door, knocking what he had decided was his ‘Maggie’ knock, three short raps, a pause, then two.

“Fox?” Looking past him, “you’re early. Where’s Dana?”

“We, um, we came separately. She’ll be here eventually.” Walking through the front door, he hung his coat up, “I figured I’d get here and see if you needed any help.”

Maggie’s smile was wide, “well, actually, yes, I’d like some help with the salad.”

It wasn’t until another hour had passed that the front door opened again and people began pouring in, the house soon filled with bodies and very, very loud. Mulder, genuinely liking 99% of these people, circulated well, talking and laughing, chasing small children when necessary and even having a civil conversation with the eldest Scully brother.

He’d been doing his best to listen for her, watch for her to arrive but she slipped in the house unnoticed by him, probably in between flipping Jack upside down and settling a heated debate about who would win a Battle Royale, Strawberry Shortcake or Funshine Bear. 

Looking up when he heard a collective gasp from the crowd, he saw her turn red at the attention, not noticing him there at first, having her hands full with explanations of her bruised face and slow stature. He stayed quiet, letting her first get her coat off, with Bill’s help, then move into the kitchen, explaining that if they’d just wait a minute, she’d tell the story to everyone at once. 

Mulder hovered at the edge of the crowd as she settled on one of the barstools at the kitchen island, then launched her story. He could tell she was still angry with him for not coming to dinner. It was subtle but the way she clipped her words when she first started told him he might still have some apologizing to do but he waited, wondering how long it would take for her to notice his presence.  
Not too long, as a matter of fact, given Maggie turned in Mulder’s direction once she’d moved past the shock of her daughter’s injuries, interrupting Scully just as she began the jail portion of the story, “Fox? Why didn’t you mention anything when you got here?”

Scully’s head shot up, scanning the crowd and finding him almost instantly, standing quietly behind the rest, hands stuffed in his pockets from the look of his posture. He answered Maggie honestly, “it wasn’t really my story to tell,” before his mouth relaxed again into an apologetic curve.

Remaining quiet for a few moments, Scully held his gaze, head tilting, eyes telling him they’d need to talk more but not right now. He knew that look and nodding slightly, she continued, this time her lips and face more animated, which Mulder likened to the fact that he had shown up and managed to surprise her completely.

She continued to stare at him as she talked, embellishing his role, making it seem like he did a lot more than wail on a guy and share a cell with a drunk Civil War re-enacter named Dustin.

Tale concluded, the crowd murmured their pleasure that she was okay and her brothers thanked him for defending their sister. Somewhat aghast at praise from Bill, he shook his head in amazement, then moved to stand in front of Scully. When the kitchen was semi-clear, she put on her ‘all business’ face, “what are you doing here?”

“I was invited to dinner.”

“Yes,” dropping her voice to a whisper, “but you weren’t coming.”

Leaning into her, voice just as low, “but then I realized I was being a jackass so I thought I’d surprise you.”

“You did.”

“Is that okay?”

Scully suddenly kissed his cheek, “it’s very okay.”

Turning his head, he managed to return the kiss on the corner of her mouth before straightening back up, “how are you feeling?”

An idiot grin forced its way onto her face, making Mulder smile as well, “okay, although I have to say, the drive over was terrible. You know how hard it is when you can’t sit back at all?”

He’d forgotten about that. Carefully brushing errant hair from her forehead, “I’ll drive you home tonight. We can come get your car whenever.”

Mulder would have said more but suddenly Charlie was beside the pair, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, “break it up, you two, there are children present.” Scully, to her detriment, went to shove him away and moved too fast, sending her bruised back and shoulders into agonizing spasms the likes of which turned her a pasty shade of white. Charlie’s face fell, “shit, Dana, you okay?”

Biting her bottom lip, “I will be and then I’ll get you. Mark my words.”

He smiled again, “consider them marked.”

Charlie disappeared then, leaving them in relative peace but with the moment broken, Mulder waved in the general direction of the refrigerator, “what do you want to drink?”

&&&&&&&&&

The evening was fun; loud, boisterous, messy, the typical Scully family dinner as Mulder had come to know them. Eventually, everyone was heading back home, giving hugs, wishing Bill good luck with his assignment, telling Tara to call them if she needed anything. Bill even sought out Mulder to shake his hand, giving him a stern, brotherly look, “keep watching out for her, would you?”

That being tantamount to a hug from William Scully, Jr., Mulder shook his hand firmly back, feeling as if the weight of the world had been squarely placed on his shoulders, “I will. Be safe out there, too.”

“I will.”

And that was that, Bill moving to pull his coat on, leaving Mulder in a somewhat flabbergasted state, not quite sure if he understood anything in the world at the moment.

Then he caught Scully’s eye, the happy shine there unmistakable.

He stood his post until the last person had disappeared out the door and Maggie was standing, waiting to wave them off, before he crossed the room.

Without a word, he took her face in his hands and kissed her, a light gliding of his lips on hers, then he was gone, moving to the kitchen to finish cleanup before they headed home.

Her eyes closed involuntarily, her smile unconscious, her aches momentarily subsiding from the ghost of Mulder’s touch.


End file.
